


One Year Later

by apastron (SnowGirl)



Series: Between Fences [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Horse Show AU, M/M, post-overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 14:39:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowGirl/pseuds/apastron
Summary: It's been one year since Jack overdosed and Kent has never been so successful or so miserable in his life.





	One Year Later

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy I wrote this ages ago and I rewrote parts of it and edited it today! This takes place before Jack goes to Samwell, either while he's still in rehab or right after he's gotten out. This is a continuation of Between Fences, and will not make nearly as much sense if you haven't read that. I'm probably going to continue writing in this series; I've been thinking a lot about Bitty being scared of show jumping and I caved and wrote the EpiKegster scene between Kent and Jack the other day. Enjoy!

It’s been exactly one year since Jack overdosed and Kent can’t look at Val anymore. He takes her to shows and as soon as he enters the show ring a cold clammy fear overtakes him and he’s throwing himself off of her and sprinting to the nearest feed room to make sure there’s no one dying. He points her at a jump and he’s nervous and she’s upset and he can’t even calm himself down, much less a panicking mare.

They no longer speak the same language.

So he stops trying to deal with it, moves on. He borrows a gelding from an eventer and he doesn’t love him, but they get along and he makes do. Kent wins ribbons and he doesn’t hook them onto his horse’s bridle like he used to with Val. The victories stop feeling shared and they start feeling like they only belong to him. This is what it feels like, he tells himself, to be successful in this sport. He’s winning more than he ever has and it’s not about the horses when you’re at this level, everyone knows that.

It’s been exactly one year since Jack overdosed and Kent’s staring at Val as she grazes in the pasture and his throat is tight and she doesn’t come when he calls. He catches her in the silence of the early morning and grooms her, but there’s nothing familiar about it anymore. She doesn’t know him, pins her ears back when he tries to touch her face.

He leaves her in her stall and sits on a haybale in the aisle and gives in and calls Jack, even though he knows he won’t answer.

The call goes straight to voicemail, which means that Jack saw and just doesn’t want to fucking talk to him because they’re nothing to each other, not anymore.

Kent closes his eyes and wills himself not to cry, “Hey Zimms,” he croaks out. “I know you don’t want to talk to me but, uh,” he trails off and picks at the hay, inspects the dirt under his fingernails. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to accomplish with this call. Kent clears his throat, “I think I’m gonna sell Val. I don’t… I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend like nothing’s wrong with her here. Every time I look at her I look for you on the other side of the ring and I can’t… I can’t live like this. God, I shouldn’t have called you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. Fuck, I don’t know what else you want me to say. I miss you.”

He hangs up before he can say anything else stupid and turns Val back out. She doesn’t loiter by the gate like she used to, just trots off into the far end of the field without so much as a second glance at him. Kent watches her leave and tries to figure out when he stopped loving her. He heads into the tack room and makes himself coffee with the Keurig and feels nothing at all. It’s funny; he didn’t think being this successful would leave him this miserable. He’s thinking about potential buyers when his phone rings, and Kent answers without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

A pause, and for a second Kent assumes it’s a telemarketer on the other end and he’s gonna hear about some fake business offer, but then, so soft that he thinks he might’ve imagined it, “Kenny.”

His grip on the phone tightens, like if he holds it tight enough Jack won’t hang up, “Jack.” He says, and his voice comes out strangled and wrong, like all the air’s just been punched out of his lungs, “Zimms.”

"I got your voicemail,” Jack says softly, and Kent’s too stunned to do anything but grunt. There’s not enough words in the world for everything he wants to say to Jack. _Why did you do it was it on purpose was it my fault do you hate me did you ever care about me at all or was I just something else to drug yourself up on I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._ Jack keeps talking, his voice still quiet and gentle and Kent wonders just how bad he’d sounded on that voicemail for Jack to be talking to him like this. It’s been a year since he heard his voice and he’d expected the circumstances to be different, expected Jack to sound less like he’s carrying the whole weight of the world on his back but then again, Jack had always sounded like that, it’s just more obvious now. “You can’t sell Val.”

Kent laughs, the sound ripping out of him short and sarcastic; he’d thought when he finally talked to Jack again he’d be relieved, would want to say anything to keep him from hanging up but as it turns out he’s not relieved, he’s really fucking angry. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Kenny-” Jack says, and Kent’s anger flares up white-hot and viscous, consuming him like a forest fire.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he snaps. “You don’t get to cut yourself off from me and then come back and tell me what I can’t do with _my_ horse. I’ve been trying to talk to you for months, and this is what gets you to call me back?”

“Parse,” Jack says, and there’s an emotion in his voice that Kent can’t place and it makes him furious, that there’s parts of Jack he doesn’t know anymore. “I’m sorry I ruined her for you.”

Kent wants to tell him he didn’t, but he’s always hated lying to Jack. “It’s too late for that,” he says instead.

“You can’t sell her,” Jack says again.

Kent closes his eyes and tips his head back against the wall of the barn. It’s too early for this conversation, and Kent’s sudden flare of anger is gone, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that leaves him feeling like him and Jack have been arguing for hours. “I can’t look at her without seeing you dying on the floor of a feed room.”

Jack is quiet for a moment, “You don’t love me more than her.”

There’s something weaponized in the way he says it, something that cuts Kent deep to his core. He thinks about the day he brought Val home, about sleeping in a folding chair outside her stall for days afterwards. Jack doesn’t say anything else, just lets his statement hang in the air. There’s no judgement, no anger in his voice and Kent wonders if Jack ever did love him. He bites at the inside of his cheek, “I don’t know either of you anymore.”

“I can’t,” Jack says. “Kenny, I can’t. Not right now.”

“Maybe someday?” Kent asks, trying not to sound hopeful even though his heart is halfway up his throat and feels like he’s going to throw up if Jack tells him that he wants nothing to do with him anymore.

On the other end of the phone, Jack sighs, loud and full of static. Kent wonders where he is, where Jack's horse is. If he’s happy. If he misses him, even a little bit. “Maybe someday,” he says.

Kent wants to believe him more than he’s ever wanted anything. He nods, even though Jack can’t see him, and when he speaks his voice is scraped raw, “Zimms, I-”

“Don’t,” Jack says, his voice a shade too sharp to be considered begging. It’s a warning, more than anything else and Kent should abide by it, even if he doesn’t want to. “I’ve got to go Kent, I have to-” he breaks off mid-sentence and sighs again and Kent knows exactly the face Jack’s making right now and he wants to be there to kiss the worry off of his face but they don’t work like that anymore.

“Yeah,” Kent says, “okay.” He hangs up the phone and pretends that it’s a victory even though he wants to throw it against the wall. He puts his elbows on the counter by the sink and drops his head into his hands. Missing Jack has become constant, an aching in his ribs that never quite goes away, no matter what he does. Hearing his voice has only made it worse.

Later that day, he goes and sits in Val’s paddock with a book like he used to when he first got her. She meanders her way over to him after an hour or so and nudges him with her muzzle and he springs up and throws his arms around her before he can stop himself and this time, when the tears spring to his eyes he doesn’t stop them.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me at monmouthco.tumblr.com! I'm more than happy to talk about horses, Kent Parson, and anything about this AU~


End file.
